


Don't carry the world upon your shoulders

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Drabble, Minor Injuries, paul helps john, tw: implied violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 10:23:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20673830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After John gets into a fight Paul sees a new side of him.





	Don't carry the world upon your shoulders

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hope you enjoy this fic, comments and kudos are very much appreciated :)

The first thing Paul heard as he woke up was John yelling.

Maybe if this was back in Liverpool he'd be more concerned - John was no stranger to getting into scrapes after all - but here Paul felt himself rolling over and going back to sleep. John was probably off his head, going off about some stupid thing. Or getting into a fight with one of the bandmates - maybe he was just sore from nursing a very bad hangover. Whatever it was, Paul didn't bother checking.

Then he heard more yelling. A loud thump on the pavement.

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. This was no longer sounding like something Paul should be ignoring. He stumbled out of bed, running towards the back door of the Bambi Kino. As he shielded his eyes from the harsh sunlight, he saw John, lying doubled over on the ground, groaning quietly.

Paul stared down for a moment, still in shock. A lump had risen into his throat. He was shaking, although he had barely registered it. He rushed to Johns side.

"Fuck! What happened to you?" Paul pulled him up so he could rest against the wall.

He felt a wave of pain and fear wash over him. John's nose was bleeding, bruises visible all over his body, a cut under his left cheek. He was as pale as anything, his light skin only highlighting the vicious marks. He looked so tired and hurt, so far removed from any version of himself that Paul had seen.

"I... They-" John winced in pain, closing his eyes tightly. He breathed out sharply.

"I was just joking... there were so many of them... they kicked the shit out of me... _shit_..." John let out a sob. Tears streaked down his face. He leaned onto Paul, covering his face with his hands. "I was fucking joking, _I wasn't asking to get beat up!_"

Paul tensed up slightly. This wasn't like anything they'd be doing back home. You never got this close to a guy back in Liverpool, and you never cried. Whoever had done this, they'd really shook John up. Paul almost didn't know how to react.

"Hey... shh, it's okay." Paul began to stroke his hair. "You're okay. They're long gone by now... it's alright."

It was unconventional, for sure. He waited for John to push him away or ask him what the hell he was doing, but he didn't. John stayed curled up, face buried in Paul's shoulder. He caressed John's face hesitantly, watching as his sobs became quieter.

John sat up. "I'm alright." He stared at the ground. "I'm... I'm fine."

He wasn't fine, obviously, but Paul knew that his stubbornness meant he would never admit it. "C'mon, let's go patch you up." Paul stood up, hand out.

"Paul?"

John stared up at Paul, his eyes pleading for something he didn't know how to ask. Paul smiled softly.

"It's okay Johnny. I won't say a word." He pulled John up. "Just come inside and get some rest, okay?"

"Okay."


End file.
